


What’s Your Problem?

by WorseOmens



Series: Good Omens Outsider POVs [12]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crossover, Fluff, M/M, Soho solidarity, humans love Aziraphale, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:14:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22244674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorseOmens/pseuds/WorseOmens
Summary: The bookshop has an unwelcome visitor, but Aziraphale doesn’t have to handle it alone.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands - Relationship
Series: Good Omens Outsider POVs [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1545919
Comments: 62
Kudos: 1156





	What’s Your Problem?

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short piece to unite a few of my of my outsider POV fics. Please enjoy :)

Aziraphale was having such a lovely day, to start with. His shop had almost no actual customers, filled instead with his various human friends who had all serendipitously decided to drop by and enjoy a calm afternoon at the same time. Chloe had come to take a break from her busy life of motherhood, and had got chatting to Jenny, who understood the strains of having to manage many things all at once (being Aziraphale’s wedding planner years before had given her a whole new perspective on the matter, actually). Morgan and Clyde had dropped in too, and had almost turned and fled at the sight of so many people, before Aziraphale collared them and dragged them inside. Clara - blissfully unaware of their criminal backgrounds - was currently introducing Clyde to her favourite historical cookery book. It was quite lovely for Aziraphale to have them all in one place. 

When the door bell jingled, his heart soared. With a broad grin on his face, hoping to see his husband come home to join them, he hurried to greet whoever had just arrived. “Crowley, my - ” he began, only for his words to lodge in his throat. He froze, the happiness draining out of his expression.

“Hello, Aziraphale,” Gabriel said, with a broad corporate grin. “Expecting someone else?”

He took a wary step back. “You’re not welcome here,” he said, swallowing hard and raising his chin. “I thought I made that quite clear.”

“You did,” he replied jovially, taking a threatening step forward. Aziraphale flinched, but didn’t move. “And now I’m here to send a message of my own.”

“You need to leave, Gabriel,” he replied, his voice turning loud and shrill with nerves. He began to fidget, trying to make himself seem taller than he was. “I won’t be bullied by you anymore. Get out of my shop.”

“Why don’t you make me, Aziraphale?” he replied mockingly, far too at-ease with himself in a home that wasn’t his. 

Behind the Principality’s back, a pair of brown eyes peeked around a nearby shelf. They watched intently as Aziraphale began to stutter and crack under pressure, starting to edge backward in intimidation. 

“Oh, that’s right. Not so brave without your disgusting little boyfriend here to look after you, are you?” Gabriel sneered when he couldn’t find a response. “You - ”

“Hey!” Chloe interrupted, stepping out from behind the shelf as soon as the insult left his mouth. “What the hell is your problem?”

“Chloe!” Aziraphale gasped, gripped with a new wave of panic. He tried to hold out his hands and keep her back, away from the archangel. “My dear girl, do go away, allow me to take care of this.”

“No, I won’t,” she retorted, glaring at Gabriel, who eyed her with unmasked amusement. “What gives him the right to talk to you that way?”

“My objective superiority,” Gabriel said smugly, with a charmless smile. He waved her off. “This is cute, really, but run along now. The grown-ups are talking.”

Aziraphale shot him his fiercest pout, still trying to guide Chloe away. To his dismay, the sound had travelled even further, bringing Jenny and Clara out to the counter, flanked by Morgan and Clyde. “What’s going on?” Jenny asked, eyes flicking from person to person.

“Nothing, nothing at all! Just a small kerfuffle,” Aziraphale said, flapping his hands in an attempt to scare them off. “Off you pop, I’ll have this sorted in a jiffy, just two shakes of a lamb’s tail and I’ll be right with you!”

“This guy’s talking to Mr Fell like dirt,” Chloe announced, ignoring all his rambling. “He won’t leave.”

“Why not?” Clara said, taking up the gauntlet Gabriel had unknowingly thrown down. She led the small group over, rallying around Aziraphale. 

“Because I’m here to make a few things clear to my... old associate here,” Gabriel said, unintimidated, pointing a finger at the angel. “Starting with his unhealthy attachment to that _thing_ he calls a friend.”

The humans looked at one other, baffled. “What’s he on about?” Morgan murmured in her brother’s ear. He shrugged, glaring stoically at the purple-eyed man. 

Aziraphale sighed, pulling his cardigan tighter around himself. “He’s talking about Crowley,” he admitted quietly. There was a collective gasp of offence. 

Clara bristled. _“Unhealthy?”_ she said, fists clenched. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’ll have you know they’re a lovely couple,” Jenny said, crossing her arms and turning her nose up at him. “I planned their wedding. I’d know.”

“Wedding?” Gabriel said. He paused for a moment, unsure if she was joking, before he descended into laughter anyway. “Oh, oh that’s rich. Good Lord Aziraphale, that’s a new low, even for you.”

He wiped tears of laughter out of his eyes, his chuckles still dying down. “Right, that’s enough,” Clyde said, finally breaking his silence. He pushed past Aziraphale, grabbing Gabriel by the lapels, who let out a cry of surprise. “I’m sick o’ the sound o’ your voice, pal. You stop disrespecting Mr Fell right this second, y’hear me?”

“Careful,” Aziraphale cried, suddenly tense. Chloe and Clara stood either side of him, a comforting hand on each of his elbows.

Morgan, not to be left out, stepped up beside her brother. She shot a glance over her shoulder, lifting her jacket to flash the handgun and flick knife in her interior pockets. “What he said,” she purred. Old habits die hard, even if she wasn’t a career criminal anymore. 

Gabriel gulped. He wasn’t nervous until then. The last thing he needed was to be discorporated; he’d taken this body without a solid reason to go to earth in the first place, and the paperwork would be a nightmare to work through if he lost it. He might even be officially barred from taking corporeal form if he got caught. He pulled back, wriggling out of Clyde’s grip and stumbling back toward the door.

“This doesn’t mean you’ve won,” he said spitefully, pointing a finger at Aziraphale before fleeing back onto the street. 

As soon as he left, Aziraphale sagged down in relief. “Oh thank the Lord,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest. He looked around at them all. “And thank you too, my dears, of course.”

“It was the right thing,” Jenny said, peering out the shop window to make sure he was gone. She hadn’t seen such a blatant case of public harassment in years. “What an asshole.”

“He is vile, isn’t he?” he agreed soberly.

“Is it a good idea to ask who he was?” Clyde asked, standing shoulder to shoulder with his sister. It was the closest they ever came to comforting one another in public; they were nervous of anyone who could frighten Mr Fell, but even so, they still knew where their allegiances lay. 

“Best not,” he replied wryly, taking out a handkerchief and dabbing his forehead lightly. 

“I’ll put the kettle on,” Chloe said, worried for Mr Fell’s heart. He was very elderly, after all. It couldn’t be good for him, all this excitement. She hurried to the back room, hoping he had something without caffeine in stock.

“And I’ll call Crowley,” Clara added, shooting a knowing smirk at him as she took out her phone. “Something tells me you need a cuddle from your lovely husband.”

He beamed. “That would be just the ticket, my dear,” he said, tucking his handkerchief back into his pocket. “What a capital idea.”


End file.
